Step Out into the light
by ZZ9PluralZAlpha
Summary: East High changed two years ago, although whether for better or worse is up for debate. When Gabriella Montez starts to uncover startling truths, she begins to get closer to the shy loner who lives over the road... Troyella; violence warning.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

* * *

Chapter One: Wind, Rain and Asphalt

Gabriella closed her eyes and smiled as she walked, feeling the breeze she had been longing for all day caress her bare arms and ruffle her hair. It hadn't been a nice day: hot, sticky and filled with tension that got to everyone. The teachers had snapped, and even her friends had been irritable. It didn't help that it was Friday, and everyone was impatient for the weekend to begin. Opening her eyes and looking at the sky as she strode homeward, she noticed that the slightly opalescent, diffused blue of earlier had given over to a steadily darkening grey colour, shading to a bruise-purple near the horizon. If she had to guess, she'd say that Albuquerque was in for a storm of epic proportions.

She smiled to herself, remembering how much she loved thunderstorms. Even as a little girl, growing up in California, she had never been scared of the noise and the flashes of light; she had been excited, a source of great amusement to her mother. They would sit together in mom's room, without the lights on, and laugh and hug and be silly every time there was a flash or a boom. They were, she realised with a small amount of surprise, some of the happiest times of her life.

That was a long time ago, though. From the age of about nine onwards, they had never stayed in one place more than a year, her mother's business requiring that she move regularly. Not this time, though. They had moved to Albuquerque at New Year, and her mother had promised that they would be here at least until graduation, the summer after next. And Gabriella had jumped at the chance to be a normal kid for a change.

Of course, everything is relative. A normal kid... who just happened to be one of the most intelligent in the country. She had been worried, as she had every time she started a new school, that when the information got out she would be treated like a pariah. East High, though, was rather different. It had taken her a long time to work out why, but the school's academic enthusiasts was also its most popular group. It was all based around the fact that the jocks were, for many various reasons, not admired as they were at every other school Gabriella had been to. She didn't understand why, but that, combined with a strange coalition between the two girls who were now her best friends had achieved what would be unthinkable everywhere else. Sharpay Evans, the star of the drama club and the girl widely acknowledged as the best-looking in the school, had become fast friends with Taylor McKessie, the head of various academic societies and a paragon of organisational skills.

Between them the somewhat unlikely pair handled everything anyone else threw at them, and it was because of this that Gabriella Montez, being both brilliant and, though she didn't know it, beautiful, had soared in popularity from the word go. It was a new experience for her, but certainly not one she minded. It was, in short, a nice school, where no one was bullied.

Well, that was what she thought, anyway.

The close conditions made everything just a bit too warm, making her long for a shower, but the breeze made it seem delicious, something to be anticipated with enthusiasm. Gabriella couldn't fight the temptation of singing softly as she walked home, already thinking through the maths assignment she had been set that morning. Barely thinking about it, she started to cross the road.

The next events were a little blurred in her mind, but she was hit hard in the side by something so big and moving so fast that it lifted her off the ground while latched onto her, before she and it both it the asphalt hard, sliding along it, the friction making her nerve-endings scream at her. She felt a strong rush of hot, dry air and a roar sounded in her ears. The weight rolled off her and she was left staring into the grey sky, just as a boom sounded a long way off and the first few splashes of rain hit her arms and legs.

She sat up quickly, ignoring for now the pain in her right arm and leg. She just saw a pick-up disappearing down the road, its windscreen wipers obviously just turned on. And lying next to her on the road was a boy, whom she recognised vaguely. Troy... something, she thought he was in her homeroom class. He was a jock, and so Gabriella had avoided him and his friends: Taylor had impressed upon her the fact that jocks thrived on attention: ignore them, and they were powerless. He opened his eyes, looked wide-eyed at Gabriella, and jumped to his feet, seeming not to notice that there was blood pouring from a cut on his cheek, or that his clothes were in bloody shreds. He nervously held out a hand to help her up, and then jerked it away once she was on her feet, looking away at the same time.

"Sorry," he muttered, almost inaudibly. "I didn't mean to hurt you, but I didn't think you'd noticed the truck, and you stepped out into the road, and..." he trailed off, finally looking at her and realising that she was just staring at him, open mouthed. "...sorry," he mumbled again. "Look, we need to get off the road. Can you walk?"

Gabriella tried to pull herself together, but the shock of what had just happened was making it hard to think. She felt two hands on her shoulders, propelling her gently towards the sidewalk. She still felt numb in a way, unable to comprehend what had nearly happened, and she stumbled and almost fell when her toes hit the curb. Instantly there was an arm around her shoulders, providing just enough lift for her to totter onwards, and one of her arms was pulled round a pair of broad if rather bony shoulders, increasing the support. "Is it far to your house?" She took a moment to understand the words, and when the meaning floated into her consciousness she nodded dumbly towards her own house, distinctive by the fairy lights strung around the front door.

As they approached the door opened and Gabriella saw her mum, looking first confused and then alarmed at the sight of her daughter, obviously hurt and being supported by a boy she'd never seen before. The boy hesitated, looking uncertain for a moment, before a slight sound from the girl next to him seemed to stiffen his resolve and he continued on to the front lawn.

"Er, Mrs. Montez?"

"Yes, yes, what happened?" Eva Montez pulled her daughter to her, relieving the young man of the burden and disregarding the rain and blood which between them were making a determined effort to soak her clothes. She held her mobile in the hand not supporting Gabriella and was already typing 911 into it.

"There was... well..." he began, before sighing and running his hand through his mop of light brown hair and then over his face, seemingly oblivious to the blood he was wiping across his features from what looked like quite a deep cut on his cheek. "It was my fault. Sorry." Eva noticed that he wouldn't meet her eyes. "I think she may need to go to the hospital. She wouldn't talk, and she was having trouble walking."

"And you? Don't you need to go too? You have..."

He backed up abruptly, his eyes a little wild. "No! Er... I'm fine. Just a few scratches. I need to go." And he dashed away, through the pouring rain, to a house on the other side of the street, just a few doors down. Eva noted the fact that he was limping slightly. She also noted the house and felt reassured. Of course, she had heard that the Masons, a couple of married doctors, were fostering now. If the boy was in their care, he would be fine. Turning to more immediate concerns, Eva bustled her daughter into the lounge, pushing her gently onto the couch and wrapping a throw around her, anxious to keep the teenager warm until the ambulance arrived. She kept talking to Gabriella, since she suspected a possible concussion.

Gabriella stared into nothing, her eyes boring a hole in the wall, answering her mother's questions automatically, while internally she kept thinking about those electric blue eyes, and what she had seen in them all too briefly: sadness, loneliness and, above all, pain.

***

Troy closed the door behind him quietly, paused for a few seconds, reading the silence in the house. He had learned from experience that the false silence was worse than the noise. He heard the rain pounding outside, lashing the windows, and the wind and thunder raking the neighbourhood, but he struggled to tune them out. Listened. No voices, but... the washing machine was chugging to itself in the basement, the heating was making its usual muted hiss, and... a pen? Yes, a pen scratching against paper. His breathing quickened. Where? He took a step forward and a deep breath, anxious to lower his heart rate so he could hear again. Scratching... above the kitchen. He sighed with a small amount of relief. He could handle that. Now moving fast but carefully he ghosted through the house, pausing briefly in the lounge and his room to grab a few things, and then into the bathroom. He locked the door behind him and exhaled again.

He ran a hot shower and got into it, yelping as the water seared against his skin and the various cuts and bruises on his torso... of course, they were always careful not to mark him on the arms or legs, since basketball players had to show a fair amount of skin. He didn't flinch from the scalding jets, though, welcoming the pain that jerked him out of the cold numbness that he had felt steeling over him. If he was awake enough to hurt, he was awake enough to do something about it. Making sure the angry, ugly and surprisingly deep scrapes along the outside of his left leg and left arm were clean and clear of too much blood he stepped out of the shower, dabbing himself dry with his towel, but using an old one he kept in his room and away from prying eyes over the injured areas: blood showing up on clean towels would not end well.

Next he took some toilet tissue, unscrewed the bottle of vodka he had grabbed from the liquor cabinet (he had been very thankful that they had forgotten to lock it) and proceeded to clean his cuts more thoroughly. It was a painful process, the alcohol stinging excruciatingly, but he knew it had to be done. He was sparing with the vodka: it wouldn't be good for it to be noticed that there was drink missing. Finally, he wrapped bandages around his leg and arm, judging that, while ugly and painful, he could explain away those as a bad knock during basketball practice. Finally he looked in the mirror... and groaned. He had barely noticed the cut on his cheek, but it was still bleeding and, when he investigated, he realised it was much deeper than the others. It wouldn't heal properly, he realised with mounting panic, without stitches, and there was no way he could get them while remaining undetected.

He took a deep breath, resigned to his fate, dressed in clean clothes that were deliberately long, and opened the bathroom door.

"I thought I heard you come in. Fighting again?"

Troy found himself unable to speak as he looked at the person who meant the most in the world to him. She looked him over, the contempt in her eyes painfully obvious, and her eyes slipped over the blood on his face to the bottle in his hand. "And drinking? God, you are such a loser."

Troy watched her walk away, then took a deep breath and went downstairs, returning the vodka to its rightful place. He looked at the clock: they would be back soon. He looked at the liquor cabinet, tempted for the first time in his life to do... something, he wasn't certain what. He turned away, went back to his room, and got started on his homework. Whatever was coming to him, he would face it as he always did.

Alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

* * *

Chapter Two: The Incident

Gabriella felt better by Monday morning, and actually looking forward to school. The ER had found nothing terribly wrong with her, just the concussion, a few abrasions, and the lingering after-effects of shock. They had kept her in over night, but released her the next morning, and by now she felt completely normal again. Except...

She was never going to forget that evening, she was certain. She could still see it, playing out in her mind like a video recording, with special effects laid on: slow motion, wide screen, surround sound, hi-def... just like life. She felt it, over and over again: the impact, the pain, and then the roar and hot wind engulfing her like the breath of some hideous monster.

And then he had helped her up, got her home and... disappeared. Her mom had implied that he had been worse off than her, although not concussed, and yet, he had acted so selflessly. Thinking it over carefully, she even realised that when he had tackled her and grabbed her, he had placed his body between hers and the truck.

He had saved her life, and she didn't know his full name. She knew where he lived, but when she had gone around and asked for him, Steve Mason, a friendly doctor who smiled apologetically at her, informed her that Troy was grounded, catching up on homework.

She would do something about it today, though. She was determined. After all, he had classes with her, he had _homeroom_ with her. She wouldn't be able to miss him. There was a brisk, purposeful air to her stride this morning, and it seemed to indicate to people that she didn't want to be stopped, since friends who would normally Join her to discuss one thing or another either waved or called a greeting from afar, letting her do the same while not breaking her gait. She made it to Ms Darbus' class in almost record time, and scanned the room carefully. Sharpay and Taylor were in their usual places: adjoining seats at the front of the class, with a space between Sharpay and Martha, a sweet girl with the odd combination of a flair for maths and a passion for dancing. The spare seat was left for Gabriella, and she couldn't help smiling at her best friends. As usual, Sharpay and Taylor were chatting quietly together, their conversation the usual unbroken flow that nevertheless alternated constantly between class work, theatre and fashion.

Not many other people were here yet: Kelsi, a quiet girl whom Sharpay had befriended years ago, largely because of an amazing talent for composition, sat a couple of seats back behind Taylor, and the basketball contingent was all there, to Gabriella's satisfaction. While jocks in other schools would roam the hallways, generally hanging out and messing around, here they were too dispirited, especially the basketball team, so they tended to get to homeroom early, and catch up on homework or reading. Gabriella worked her way along the back row, realising she didn't know the names of a few. That one was Jason, who occasionally asked inane questions in class but seemed to be a good person, all things being equal. Next to him was Zeke, a tall guy with a sweet disposition that got a bit beaten down when people started riding him and his friends. The leader of the pack was next to him: Chad Danforth, who had survived being a basketball player by also being the class clown. Everyone loved to have Chad around, since he had a talent for cheering people up.

Gabriella realised that, had she not been looking for him, she would have missed the guy at the end. Troy Bolton was staring out the window, so she couldn't see his face. His chair was pushed back against the wall, something only they could do since they had no desks behind them. The backs of his heels were on the edge of his chair, his knees pulled right up, with his arms around his legs, and he was resting his cheek against them. It was hard to tell from this angle, but his clothes seemed to be a good quality. She saw him turn his face towards the door. She had expected the cut on his face from what she remembered, and what her mum had told her, but she hadn't expected the stitches to be so numerous, so visible, or so... angry-looking, she realised. If his foster parents were doctors, shouldn't they be done better? Also, his eye was a sight, a mass of purple flesh with ugly yellow and even green-ish blotches all over it: the mother of all black eyes. She frowned: her mother hadn't mentioned anything about that. What had happened?

Troy looked away, and Gabriella started as she felt a hand on her shoulder, but it was just Ryan, Sharpay's twin brother and her best male friend, giving her a tacit warning that the teacher was approaching.

Ms Darbus swept in in her standard, overly-dramatic fashion, her arms outstretched as if to embrace the whole class. Gabriella rolled her eyes when she caught sight of Sharpay and Ryan, who were both hanging on her every word. The twins loved drama, more sincerely than Gabriella might have guessed if she didn't know them. Taylor had told her that, before she had befriended Sharpay, the school's dramatic productions were always taken over by the Evans twins. More recently, though, they had been willing to accept other people, even recognising genuine talent in others. That was how Sharpay had improved since their friendship; Taylor had become less arrogant and superior, putting others down and making snide comments about other's intelligence. All things considered, the pair had worked wonders with each other.

"Good morning, thespians," Ms Darbus trilled in her impressive, projected voice. "We have a lot to get through today: the signup sheets for the spring musical are going up today, with auditions this Friday. Be sure to get your name up in advance, as we can expect fierce competition. Also, don't forget the last basketball game of the season... Mr. Danforth, anything to tell us about it?"

Chad stood up, looking a little nervous, since he was obviously trying hard not to make a joke. "Well, Ms Darbus, we know we haven't done that well for a couple of seasons, but we've been working really hard and we're going to go all out. We'd really welcome any support anyone will give us."

Taylor rolled her eyes at Gabriella, but she frowned into her notebook. She had never really questioned the principle of 'ignore the jocks', since if she had followed it in previous schools life would have been much better. Now, though, she couldn't help but look at the irony, and feel a little ashamed. It was no secret that Chad liked Taylor. He certainly couldn't keep quiet, but Taylor justified her poor treatment of him, and the rest, because they were jocks. Gabriella wondered whether a school existed anywhere where the people were judged by who they were, not what they did.

The rest of homeroom passed before Gabriella really noticed, wrapped as she was in her own confusing thoughts. Things didn't get much better in her morning classes, either, and all the teachers noticed, though did not voice, the fact that their most gifted student was unusually distracted. On the other hand she was doing so well in all her classes, each one decided to give her a break. She obviously had something on her mind.

Lunch came as a tremendous relief, and gave Gabriella a renewed sense of determination. She'd talk to her friends, and see if they knew anything. After collecting her lunch from the cafeteria, she sat down with her friends in the seat they'd left for her, smiling at one and all before focusing on Sharpay and Taylor.

"Guys... can you tell me anything about Troy Bolton?"

Taylor snorted somewhat indelicately. "A jock, and a bit of a loser. Not worth worrying over. Why?"

Gabriella decided to sidestep the question. "You know anything, Shar?"

Sharpay frowned into her sandwich before answering. "Taylor might be being a bit harsh. He's on the basketball team, but he never struck me as quite as obsessed as the rest. And after all, there was the accident."

The other conversations around the table died down, as though, Gabriella thought, Sharpay had uttered some unholy, blasphemous testimony. Martha broke the silence. "Sharpay, we said we wouldn't..."

"I know, we said we wouldn't talk about it. But, I think we need to. Apart from anything else, it contributed to what brought us all together, and I think Gabriella has a right to know."

There was silence for a moment, and then Ryan spoke up. "Personally, I agree with Shar. This has to be Taylor's decision; you two need to agree on this." Not for the first time, Gabriella was thankful for Ryan's presence within the group, and felt a little sorry for him. He spent all his time with a whole group of girls without a single complaint, and was often landed with the role of arbiter and mediator during one of the group's thankfully infrequent arguments.

Taylor and Sharpay looked at each other for a long time, the contrasts between them even more shocking than usual: Taylor in a smart white blouse with matching stone grey skirt and jacket, her dark complexion and hair set off by a bright blue hair band, and Sharpay as usual in pink and white, her blonde hair today draped loosely but artfully down to her shoulders. Finally, Taylor nodded and turned to Gabriella. She took a deep breath, and began.

"This happened a couple of years ago now. Back then, Sharpay and I weren't exactly as close as we are now..."

Everyone at the table snorted, and Taylor grinned sheepishly. "Okay, understatement. We hated each other's guts, made each other's lives miserable... and the lives of everyone around us, too." She looked around apologetically at the table, who smiled reassuringly. "Anyway, that day... I don't remember what actually happened, but it led to us fighting. And not just the normal stuff: we were scratching, pulling hair... I'm pretty sure Shar made a grab for my eye at one point."

Gabriella gasped. "Sharpay!"

Sharpay made an indignant little sound. "I did not! I went for her hair, and... missed a little."

"Anyway," Taylor continued, "we were eventually broken up by the gym teacher, coach Bolton."

Gabriella's eyes widened. "Bolton?"

Taylor paused. "Yeah, Bolton. Now that's weird. I'd almost forgotten, Troy was his son. He's been living with the Masons so long, I guess it kind of slipped. Anyway, he pulled us apart, and gave us both detention the next evening. We were being made to clean the locker rooms, and we were going to be there until it was spotless. Yeah, it was a punishment, but the coach wanted us to work together, and maybe settle our differences."

Kelsi, who was sitting next to Ryan and nibbling at a sandwich, spoke up then, her quiet voice startling everyone: Kelsi rarely spoke out. "That was just coach Bolton: he was a great teacher, and cared about all of us. Yeah, the basketball team was special to him, but he had time for everyone, and he never blamed anyone for not being good at sports, as long as we tried. I remember, once, I was late to class 'cos I got so into writing a song. He came to the music room to find me, and I didn't notice him at first, just kept going, and he stood and listened. And when I finished, he came over, gave me a warning about missing his class... and then praised me for the song."

Gabriella watched in amazement as a glorious smile spread over the small girl's timid face. She had never seen Kelsi this animated. "It was the first time anyone had paid attention to what I was doing, and... I was so grateful to him. I made sure never to be late to his class again, and I always tried my best, even though I was never any good at gym. And in return, he had a word with the music teacher. He would listen to me play, and he would..."

There were tears running down Kelsi's cheeks now. Ryan reached around her, and pulled her close to him, letting her cry softly into his jacket. He also took over for her. "To put it plainly, coach Bolton was a great guy, and he wanted the best for us, hence his little idea with Shar and Tay."

Taylor was looking down at her food now, and Gabriella realised that, whatever had happened, it had been huge. Nothing made Taylor seem insecure, she was probably the most together person Gabriella had ever met, and yet...

"We were cleaning as we had been told, sniping at each other the whole time, and we saw Mrs. Bolton come in. It wasn't that unusual, especially since it was after school hours. We kept going for a few more minutes... and then we heard voices coming from the coach's office. The coach and his wife, sure, but someone else was there too. They were shouting, and... then we heard gunshots."

Gabriella froze. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't that. She knew that Troy's parents were probably dead, though she hadn't been certain, but she had anticipated a car accident or something. Not what sounded like cold-blooded murder.

Taylor seemed unable to continue, so Sharpay picked up the narrative, though she too seemed unnaturally subdued, obviously drawing strength from Ryan's hand on her shoulder. "We screamed, and heard some glass breaking. I was about to run away, but Taylor made me stay and we looked in the office. There was... a lot of blood. More blood than I've ever seen, and more than I ever want to see again. The coach and his wife were both lying on the floor, and their eyes were open. The window was smashed. We called 911, but it was too late."

There was silence for what seemed like a long time, and then Taylor took a deep breath. "The police caught the guy who did it. Some whack-job the coach had failed a few years before, who blamed him for not graduating, not going to college, not holding down a job. The guy was crazy; I don't think he went to prison, but a mental institution instead. Eventually, things calmed down. Principle Matsui hired coach Rogers, and because he's a football man and doesn't care about them, the basketball team started failing, and they've never recovered. But, on the other hand," and here she took Sharpay's hand and gripped it tightly, smiling at her friend, "we became friends, and have been ever since. So, now you know as much as we do."

Gabriella nodded, trying to process all she had heard. "Thanks for telling me, you guys. Sorry, it couldn't have been easy." She didn't mention what she was thinking, because she knew it wouldn't have been like that, wouldn't have occurred to any of them, but she was thinking about Troy. One day he has a perfectly normal life, and the next his parents are taken from him, and the entire school is shunning him. She could only guess what that could be like.

As they were all leaving for afternoon classes, Gabriella found Kelsi walking beside her, still obviously upset from the story. "Gabriella," she started nervously, "you have free period tomorrow morning, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," she replied, wondering what was up. The smaller girl seemed to debate with herself for a while before coming to a decision.

"If you want to find out a little more about Troy Bolton, meet me outside the music room, five minutes after free period starts." And with that, they entered the classroom, and all opportunity to discuss the cryptic instructions was lost.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

Also, there will be quite a few songs in this fic, and most of them will be by other, more talented people. However, the one towards the end of the chapter is my own, and no one else's. Sure, the music I wrote to it sounds a lot like Scream from HSM3, but I swear the words are mine.

* * *

Chapter Three: Where the Shadows Fall

Gabriella got through afternoon classes somehow, managing not to dwell on Kelsi's cryptic message. At the end of the last class of the day though, the teacher called her while everyone else was packing up their stuff. "Miss Montez, could you wait a couple of minutes?"

"Sure, Mr Jacobs." She made her way past the newly wiped benches, past arrays of test tubes and racks of Bunsen burners to the teacher's desk, her eyes wandering to the door and the milling students there, secretly wishing she could just go home and think for a while. She was distracted, though, by one person entering the room. She looked quite young, and Gabriella guessed she was a freshman. Her hair was a light, sandy brown and fell straight to mid-way down her back, and her striking blue eyes seemed very familiar. The girl gave a shy smile, which Gabriella returned.

"Ah, Miss Bolton. Gabriella Montez, this is Natasha Bolton, in my ninth grade class." Gabriella struggled to concentrate on what Mr Jacobs was saying. Bolton? As in... come to think of it, they did look remarkably alike. And no one had ever said that Troy was an only child. She quickly attempted to pull herself together. "Natasha her has been surpassing herself in my class. She's way beyond her classmates' level, and I'm afraid she's going to get very bored in class unless I do something about it. What I'm going to do is set her some harder work... the sort you've been doing."

The bespectacled, gently smiling teacher gave Gabriella a meaningful glance. He had taken to setting her some college-level work, since she was more than capable of the material everyone else was doing. That he wanted this ninth-grader to do the same spoke volumes.

"So, you want me to work with her?"

"Just get her started off, and answer questions if she has them. I'm sure you'll both be fine."

Natasha can Gabriella smiled and headed off towards their lockers. Gabriella realised she needed to ask the obvious question. "Say, Natasha..."

"Tash," the younger girl cut in, and smiled brightly. "Everyone calls me Tash."

Gabriella chuckled softly. "Okay, Tash. I was wondering... is your brother Troy Bolton?"

To Gabriella's surprise, Tash's face became hard, and cold too. "Yes, unfortunately. Ever since Mum and Dad died, he's become a complete loser. He does badly in school, his team is a joke, and worse, he's always getting in fights. The other day, I even caught him drinking."

Gabriella was shocked. This was Troy's sister, and yet the picture she painted was completely at variance with what she knew from everyone else, and her own experience. The Troy she had met, albeit under the most extreme circumstances, could never be in a fight; it just wasn't in his character. And drinking? It sounded so unlikely, but...

She went home that night even more confused than before, having arranged with Tash to meet the next afternoon. She managed to distract herself with homework for a while, but homework is unpleasant in all ways possible: on the few occasions when you might actually want it to take a while, you'll probably find you're done in around half the time you expected.

She spent a restless night, asking herself meaningless questions. Not only did she not know the answers, she didn't even know if they were the right questions, and that wasn't a problem she was used to having. She eventually dropped off, but awoke early, still tired, and in a decidedly bad mood.

Her bad mood persisted through the first lessons of the day, and her friends knew enough to act in the appropriate way: not avoid her or exclude her in any way, but not pester her with stuff. By the time free period arrived, she was feeling a bit better, and after waiting the five minutes Kelsi had recommended, she made her way to the music room. The smaller girl was already there, waiting for her with a slightly anxious expression on her face, and she hesitated when Gabriella arrived.

"I'm not entirely sure I should be doing this, you know," she confided softly. "This isn't really my secret to tell. The thing is, I don't know what to do about it. Maybe… I think something's telling me that you might."

Gabriella didn't really trust herself to reply, and instead followed Kelsi into the room. The two girls crept past the racks of guitars, tribal drums and tuned percussion instruments, until they were crouched behind a set of timpani, the covers dusty from disuse. Looking through a tiny crack between the C and G drums, Gabriella saw a large, shiny black grand piano, its lid opened to reveal the strings and hammers inside, but more to let the music it contained out.

Squinting, she looked along the length of the piano, between the lid and the body, and saw just two eyes visible over the music stand: two impossibly blue eyes, that looked like they had to have been painted: nothing natural could possibly be that blue, could they? She knew those eyes. They were the eyes she had seen first on the face of the man who had saved her life, and later, as now, surrounded with ugly bruising and with a sad, haunted look to them. Troy's eyes.

With no warning, the piano began to play, and Troy sang along. Gabriella didn't know the song, but it made her sad to hear it, even sung by what she realised was a very beautiful voice.

"_The sun sets, and shadows fall_

_Across the sky; I wonder why my_

_Head is filled with shade and light,_

_And why I never stand and fight._

"_No one sees the me I know:_

_They just see a face where the shadows grow and_

_They blind me, radiant stars in the_

_Twilight corners of my mind._

"_I search the night for the beacon light, _

_But there's no break of day:_

"_I don't want to live in the dark,_

_But the monsters roar and leave their mark._

_Perhaps I'll never see the day after all,_

'_Cos I'm where the shadows fall._

"_The tracks are straight, no turning back,_

_Is my fate sealed? Find the crack and_

_Tear the wall down, blaze my own trail_

_Through everything in my way._

"_I search the night for the beacon light, _

_But there's no break of day:_

"_I don't want to live in the dark,_

_But the monsters roar and leave their mark._

_Perhaps I'll never see the day after all,_

'_Cos I'm where the shadows fall._

"_I see the false dawn gilding the skies,_

_I won't be taken in by the lies._

_I want to stand up and shout!_

"_I don't want to live in the dark,_

_But the monsters roar and leave their mark._

_Perhaps I'll never see the day after all,_

'_Cos I'm where the shadows fall,_

_Yeah, I'm where the shadows fall."_

It was a sad song, but there was just a glimmering of hope there, she realised. She was learning more about Troy Bolton all the time: yes, he was sad, and alone, and maybe even afraid, but he hadn't given up: there was determination there, a steel core that would not buckle, no matter what was thrown at him. The song was uniquely Troy, and Gabriella decided that he must have written it himself. Everything just gave her more to think about.

Once he finished the song, he seemed to be doing nothing in particular, just the musical equivalent of doodling over the keyboard, although it still sounded nice. He seemed thoughtful, and rather pensive. Kelsi touched Gabriella's shoulder briefly, gave her a weak smile, and then left the room the same way she had entered. Gabriella was about to follow her, but something made her stay. Eventually she stood up and made her way quietly to the piano. Troy didn't notice her until she was almost on top of him. He whirled around, his expression dark and desperate, almost like a wild animal who's been cornered. Instinctively, Gabriella raised her hands in front of her, the universal signal of non-aggression, and backed up a step.

"Hey, don't worry. I wasn't going to do anything."

Troy's eyes softened when he recognised who it was. Apart from that evening, he had seen her around a few times, trying to get a gauge on her, as he did with all new people since they were, of course, potential threats. From an aesthetic stand-point, he had to admit that she was gorgeous. Her heritage was obviously Latina of some sort, maybe Dominican or Puerto Rican, he wasn't sure, but there wasn't much hint of an accent, which suggested that her family had moved to the States a while back. There was also something slightly different about her… perhaps it was the somewhat slanted eyes and very expressive eyebrows, but it was almost like there was some east-Asian in her background. Whatever it was, it gave her a unique look: exotic, but at the same time strangely innocent. Troy was honest enough with himself to know that he was attracted to her… and realistic enough to know that he'd never do anything about it. Maybe a few years before, but not now.

She also seemed strong, in a way he didn't really recognise. It wasn't like Taylor and Sharpay, who had become stronger through each other, or like Chad, whose strength was something as simple as always being able to cheer his friends up. Thinking about it, Troy realised that Gabriella was had become strong by being hurt, by feeling pain, and recovering and carrying on with her life. Troy frowned at that; it seemed that that outlook would make a person cold, unwilling to be vulnerable to the same pain, but Gabriella was guileless. She loved, Troy could tell, freely, and that love was expressed through everything she did. And Troy wondered, just for a moment, if some of that might be spared on him...

Realising he had been looking at her a little too long, he looked away before speaking. "How are you? After your little adventure the other night, I mean."

Gabriella chuckled. "I'm fine. Nothing left but some sore spots on my arms and legs. Which is more than I can say for you," she continued, looking a little concerned now. "Those stitches look ugly. Was there a problem?"

"Oh, no," Troy hastened to reassure her. "No problem. Just that, my foster mum did them at home, to save a trip. Not much in the way of anaesthetic."

Troy had said it to imply that they had found something to use, if only ice packs. Gabriella, as always, realised the truth: the stitches had been done with nothing to numb the pain. He must have been in agony. She couldn't bring herself to ask quite yet, though, and moved on to something else that had been bothering her.

"So, that's quite a black eye. My mum didn't mention you having one when you brought me home."

Troy shrugged a little awkwardly. "Ah, I'm afraid that was my fault. Rode my bike into a wall."

The warning bells whooped in her mind. A bike crash? That must have been one hell of a funny shaped wall. Plus there was the fact that Chad claimed he had missed a pass during basketball practice, while Tash maintained that he got into fights. What was going on? She knew better than to press that now, though, since Troy already seemed to be slightly defensive. She smiled warmly at him.

"Well, thanks to the concussion, I never had the chance to say thank you. You saved my life, you know."

Troy looked uncomfortable. "Actually, I think you got hurt for no reason. I don't think the truck was that close."

Gabriella shook her head gently, slipping down and sitting next to him on the piano stool before he could react. "I felt how close it was. If you hadn't tackled me like that, at the very least I would have a severely broken arm. So, thank you."

She was slightly amazed to see that the boy next to her was blushing. Blushing? Just from a thank you? She decided to change tack again.

"You have a wonderful voice by the way."

This time Troy smiled genuinely, his face lighting up as he smiled at her. "Thank you. You know, I don't know if anyone else has ever heard me sing before. You might be the first."

She looked away, suddenly and inexplicably shy. "Do you think... do you think we might sing together, sometime?"

Troy actually turned his head and looked at her, a soft smile playing around his lips. "That would be nice. Right now, though, I think I have practice."

Gabriella nodded, and stood up to make her way out and to her next class. Just for a moment, though, and out of her sight, her fingers brushed against his. Both of them froze for a moment, tacitly allowing the touch to linger as it might not, otherwise. Then, with a final smile, they went their separate ways.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

Once again, there's a song in the chapter. I didn't do the whole thing, but the song is 'Low Man's Lyric' by Metallica. I don't own it, but I encourage people to find it and listen to it, as I think it's beautiful, and probably not what people expect from a band like Metallica.

* * *

Chapter Four: Turn

Troy was always quiet, even as he got changed for Basketball, but Chad couldn't help noticing that maybe it was a different sort of quiet today. It was more like he was remembering something, and thinking about something, than like he was trying not to get noticed. Chad had tried ever since the incident to be the best friend he could to Troy, and he had to the best of his ability. The difficulty was that he just didn't know how to deal with the sort of problems Troy was facing.

During practice Troy was paired with Jason for warm-up exercises. These days Chad ran the practices, since the coach never bothered showing up. Jason also noticed something different about Troy, and Jason wasn't famous for his perception. Troy's mind seemed to be elsewhere, although as usual he never missed a trick, his speed returning a pass as superlative as ever, the angles of his bounce-passes as clear cut as if he'd measured them out with a protractor. The wildcats finished their warm-ups, and paused for a drink before starting a practice game. Troy walked over to Chad.

"Hey, man. I was wondering: could I say something to the team?"

Chad nodded, somewhat taken aback, since Troy rarely said anything at all, let alone to more than one person. Still, Chad nodded. He was perfectly aware that he wasn't a brilliant captain, since his own brand of communication was more appropriate to cheering the team up after losing than to inspiring them to win. Coach Bolton, he recalled, had been great at that, and before the incident Troy had shown some sign of having the same talent.

"Hey guys." The team all looked up, and they all paid attention. Considering Troy had only said two words, and those quietly, that was already something. Chad knew, as they all did, that if Troy Bolton felt he needed to say something, they were going to listen. "I know I'm not the captain, but lately I've been thinking." He paused. "Huh. We must be really miserable if not one of you made a joke there." A chuckle rippled through the team, and Chad felt something. Or, maybe just the edge of something. Whatever, he saw smiles appearing on familiar faces that hadn't smiled much recently, and felt one creeping across his own.

"What I have to say is this: I am sick and tired." There was a surprised murmur, but Troy was far from finished. "Tired of losing games, tired of no one caring, and tired of not having any fun. Do you remember that? When basketball was fun, because more important than anything else, it was the sport we loved to play? I've been forgetting that feeling lately, and I don't like it.

"So, I have a suggestion. We have a game on Friday night. I suggest that we forget the losing streak, forget the fact that no one at the school supports us, and even forget that coach only comes to the games to yell at us. I say we ignore all that, and we play like we know we can: like we're having fun, and like we're the best damn team around!"

The pitch of his voice rose as he was speaking until, by the end, he was shouting. The other boys were grinning openly now, infected by Troy's enthusiasm and determination, all trace of their previous apathy gone. Chad smiled broadly, and bellowed the words that hadn't been heard in two years:

"What team!?"

***

Gabriella breathed a gentle sigh of relief as Tash left the classroom, leaving her to collect together her books, bags and thoughts. She did like the younger girl: it was almost impossible not to. She was bright, pretty and funny, and she caught on to new ideas astonishingly quickly. Working with her wasn't a chore; it was fun to share this time with someone, but maybe someone just a little bit younger. If she were completely honest with herself, she had to admit that she enjoyed having someone looking up to her. Not many people aspired to be super-humanly brainy.

Still, all the time they were together, Gabriella had to restrain herself from asking about Troy, from asking about the fights he was always having and his continuing delinquent behaviour. Odd was an understatement: it was downright bizarre how he was so natural with her, so timid and perceptive and… yes, charming, she had finally to admit to herself, when someone as close as his sister knew him as a completely different person. It didn't seem to make any sense.

She shook her head, trying to free herself from these thoughts for a while. Tomorrow was Thursday, and she had a free period: maybe she'd go and see if he was in the music room again.

'_You like him,'_ a sing-song little voice murmured in her mind as she strode down the corridor towards the main entrance of East High. School had finished some time ago, and the hallways were mostly deserted, just a few other stragglers like herself still trickling towards home. She rolled her eyes. Part of the secret of her intelligence was a fine analytical mind, but the problem was that the lines got blurred: the part of her that asked questions all the time merged with the parts that thought about people and the future and difficult things like that, which resulted in her effectively talking to herself, albeit with a number of different voices depending on the subject. She frowned now, though. Normally if she saw a guy she thought was cute it would be Sharpay's voice she heard, and Sharpay's arguments could always be beaten down. This voice was different though. It was her mother, and Gabriella could never ignore her mother's advice.

'_Yes, I suppose I do,'_ she countered in her 'reasoning' tone, which was mostly herself but, oddly, with a little of Kelsi mixed in. _'There are different sorts of 'like', though, aren't there? I like him, because he saved my life, and because he has a nice voice, and because he can hold surprisingly coherent conversations for a sportsman.'_

'_Yes, but you also like the way he smiles, and the way his eyes twinkle, and the musical quality aside, you just like the sound of his voice.'_

Gabriella actually blushed. Her own psyche was making her embarrassed. _'Okay, I can admit that I find him attractive, that maybe I have a little crush. Well, I'm sixteen. Crushes are pretty much to be expected. Why am I bothering myself with this one?'_

'_Because', _said a voice that didn't sound like anyone in particular, and which she rarely heard. The voice was calm and deep, but would not be ignored. _'Because, even that is not the only reason you're interested. You like this boy at least in part because he confuses you, because you can't figure him out at a glance, as you've been able to do with every equation put in front of you since you were eight. This boy is nice, this boy is cute; this boy is also a mystery. And you have no chance ignoring that combination.'_

She sighed with relief as the internal conversation ceased: it seemed that her mind was going to let her have a rest for a while. Finally she got to the front door, and as always before leaving she glanced at the boards announcing school events.

There was the notice for the scholastic decathlon team. Taylor had bullied her on to the team in her second week, but she found she enjoyed the edge of competition it put on otherwise standard studying. They were meeting at Sharpay's house tomorrow night: Sharpay wasn't on the team, heaven forbid, but she and Ryan formed the support club, and they made great brownies.

Next to it was the sign-up sheet for the spring musical auditions. They were getting close, and she had still to make her mind up about it. Sharpay wanted her to audition, after having heard her sing at a karaoke party, but she was unsure she wanted to perform in front of a lot of people. Maybe...

She shook her head, and looked at the next board. Sports events, never anything to interest h-

There was a basketball game tomorrow night.

She frowned. Tomorrow night? Well, the team would manage without her... _'Hah! You're even going to one of his games now!'_ She groaned; they were back.

"Hey, are you alright?"

She started, nearly dropping her bags, and an arm swooped down, catching her arm and keeping her from stumbling. She looked up, and saw two bright blue eyes looking at her with mild concern, the sandy eyebrows above raised eloquently.

'_Of course, fate won't let me wait till tomorrow,' _she thought as she smiled at him, righting herself. He smiled back and removed his hand. She recalled how, the other day after touching her, he had pulled back suddenly, as if afraid of the contact. She also noticed a slightly warm feeling on her arm and fought to keep herself from blushing.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking. What are you still doing here?"

"Oh, we had an extra basketball practice, and it just finished." For the first time she noticed that his hair was still wet from the shower, and looked darker than usual. She tore her eyes away as he walked over to look at the boards. "And why are you still here?"

She chuckled. "Ironically enough, I was just meeting your sister. My chemistry teacher asked me to work with her on a few things." She noticed suddenly that he had tensed, though he was still looking away from her. "You okay?"

He hesitated, before the muscles in his neck and back relaxed and he turned back to her, smiling. "Yeah. So, you know Tash?"

She nodded. "She's great. She gets what I'm talking about when I go into 'freaky genius' mode. Mostly, even Taylor can't keep up with me when I'm like that."

He smiled, but there was something sad behind his eyes. Regret? Maybe. He turned back to the board. "Well, good luck with the decathlon, though from what I've seen, you probably don't need it."

She smiled back. "And I hope the game goes well tomorrow. I may even come and see it."

He smiled wider. "I hope you do. Although, you may find that you're the only one there, having to face the entire West High crowd on your own."

She chuckled. "I might be able to manage that. How do you think your chances are?" She could have kicked herself after saying the words, but his reaction was not what she expected. He wore a slight smile that said that he knew something she didn't, and his eyebrows quirked to a quizzical angle.

"Oh, I'm quietly confident. I think we're turning a corner."

Gabriella bit her lip, a little unsure as to what to say next; it was like anything she said could be misconstrued into an insult towards the team. Fortunately, he broke the moment, walking up to the other board: the audition sign-up sheets. He stood and stared at them.

"You want to audition?" Gabriella murmured when he didn't move. Troy shifted where he stood, as if he was uncomfortable.

"I don't know. Well, actually, I do know. I do want to. I love music, and I want to be a part of this."

"So? Sounds like your reasoning is better than most of the other people who are going to try out. What's stopping you?"

He sighed, and turned to face her. "I think you know. You know what people think of the team, and what they think of me. And by now, I wouldn't be surprised if you'd heard the whole story." He raised one eyebrow in a question, and she nodded gently. He looked back at the sheet. "Somehow, I don't think they'll want me in their show." The way he said 'they' wasn't vindictive or angry, it was just a fact. Gabriella noted again that just because 'they' were a good thing for her, maybe 'they' weren't a good thing for everyone. She cocked her head to one side.

"Screw them."

He turned to look at her again, his eyes wide with surprise this time. "Excuse me?"

She reached out, resting her hand on his arm. "If you want to sing, or dance, or anything, don't let them stop you. Even if you don't get into the show, do the audition. Show them what you can do. Show them that you're more than what they make you out to be."

Slowly, he took a pen and rested it against the sheet. He stood there, apparently about to sign, for quite a while, appearing to argue with himself. Then Gabriella saw the end of the pen dip. "I can't do it. Not on my own."

Once again, she acted almost without thinking. Still, it wasn't pure instinct that made her reach around him, place her hand over his, and raise it to the other section of the sheet: the one for pairs auditions: even consciously, part of her really wanted this. She wrote their names with his hand quickly, before he could react or she could change her mind, and then dropped his hand. He turned to look at her, a surprised expression on his face.

She shrugged. "You don't have to do it on your own." Her breath came out as little more than a whisper.

Troy smiled, and shyly took her hand, holding it loosely, as if worried that grasping any tighter would cause her to flee. She smiled back, gripping his hand tighter. "Look come round to my house. If nothing else, we'll need to practice if we're going to sing together. Or, are you still grounded?"

He looked into the distance, obviously thinking through something. "No, I got a couple of As, I should be okay…" Then he looked back at her. "Hey, how did you know I was grounded?"

They stepped through the main door and out into the blistering sunshine. Just for once, though, Gabriella didn't really mind. "Oh, the other day I went round to your house, to see if I could thank you for Friday. Your foster dad said you were grounded."

A somewhat ugly look crossed his face, before it cleared and he smiled down at her. For the first time, Gabriella noticed how much taller Troy was than her: she thought the top of her head might just come up to his chin.

"Yeah, I was. I won't be now though. I'd love to come round, if it won't be a problem for your mum."

Gabriella giggled. "She might just want to smother you. I've hardly been able to get her to shut up about you." Not that she had tried all that hard, she added to herself.

Troy blushed a little. "Do you know the song we're meant to sing?"

"I think so. It's one Kelsi wrote; I've got a copy at home. It's really nice."

"Well, that's good. If I'm going to put my reputation on the line, it might as well be a good song."

Gabriella looked at the dead straight expression on his face, before letting go, unable to hold the laughter in any more. The snort she gave was most un-ladylike, but she didn't care, and neither did Troy, who laughed along with her.

"You know," she eventually choked out, "that shouldn't be that funny."

Troy shrugged. "I don't have any particular illusions about myself. I know what I am, and I know what everyone else thinks. The only ones who matter are the ones that know the difference," he said softly, looking at her intently, before glancing elsewhere again, seemingly a little embarrassed. By now they had left East High behind them, and were strolling along streets very like their own, with neat houses to either side looking strangely uniform. "Anyway, I'm not quite as fragile as I may seem."

Gabriella was silent for a while. "Can I ask a question?" Her voice sounded timid, even to herself.

Troy shrugged. "You can always ask. Answers may or may not be forthcoming," he replied, smiling down at her to take the sting out of the words. This time, though, Gabriella didn't smile back.

"How did you get the black eye?"

He was silent for a moment. "I think I just got knocked when I tackled you."

She shook her head. "That's not true. My mum told me that your cheek was bleeding, but your eye was fine. And, it was bad first thing on Monday morning, so it can't have happened at basketball practice."

She stopped, worried that she had scared him with her interrogation. He stopped walking too, and turned to look at her, his eyes unreadable.

"You got me. Look, I'll tell you. Just… not today. Not yet. Monday, maybe."

She nodded, satisfied with that, and they continued walking. It might be stalling, but she didn't think he'd procrastinate any longer. Hesitantly she reached up, stopping her hand when it was a few inches from his cheek.

"It still looks really painful. Are you taking care of it?"

He smiled softly. "Yeah, it hurts, but it is getting better. I use an ice-pack for a while every night, so it's numb before I go to sleep."

She shivered at the thought. "Well, I hope it gets better," she concluded, realising she sounded lame.

He smiled wider and carried on walking. "I'm sure it will."

They chatted about inconsequential things as they strolled onwards: bands, music, films, TV, anything and everything, and Troy couldn't get over the fact that, not only was he enjoying himself, but she seemed to be as well.

Finally they arrived at their own street and Gabriella's house. She unlocked the door to let them both in since her mum was working late tonight, and she showed Troy round the house before leading him up to her room. She was aware that some teenage girls weren't allowed to take boys to their rooms, but she was under no such prohibition, since the matter had just never come up before. She sat on her bed and unpacked her books, while Troy sat in her computer chair, smiling softly as he looked around. After a while, though, she noticed his eyes flickering again and again to her guitar, sitting in the corner, and she laughed aloud. "Troy, if you want to play, just feel free. I don't use it as much as I should anyway."

He smiled widely at her, before standing and fetching it. He plucked a couple of strings and adjusted the tuning pegs very slightly, then settled himself down and started to play.

Again, it wasn't a song Gabriella had heard before. The music was very simple, but sad. Troy's left hand slid smoothly over the frets, while his right danced confidently between the strings, each note sounding just as it should. Soon, just as Gabriella realised she was hoping for it, he began to sing along.

"_My eyes seek reality,_

_My fingers seek my veins._

_There's a dog at your back step:_

_He must come in from the rain._

"_I fall 'cause I've let go;_

_The net below has rot away,_

_So my eyes seek reality_

_And my fingers seek my veins._

"_The trash fire is warm,_

_But nowhere safe from the storm,_

_And I can't bear to see_

_What I've let me be:_

_So wicked and worn._

"_So as I write to you,_

_Of what is done and to do,_

_Maybe you'll understand_

_And you won't cry for this man,_

_'Cause low man is due._

"_Please forgive me._

"_My eyes seek reality,_

_My fingers feel for faith._

_Touch clean with a dirty hand:_

_I touch the clean to the waste._

"_The trash fire is warm,_

_But nowhere safe from the storm,_

_And I can't bear to see_

_What I've let me be:_

_So wicked and worn._

"_So as I write to you,_

_Of what is done and to do,_

_Maybe you'll understand_

_And won't cry for this man,_

_'Cause low man is due._

_Please forgive me_

"_So low, the sky is all I see._

_All I want from you is forgive me._

_So you bring this poor dog in from the rain,_

_Though he just wants right back out again._

"_And I cry to the alleyway,_

_Confess all to the rain,_

_But I lie, lie straight to the mirror- _

_The one I've broken to match my face."_

Eventually he stopped singing, although his fingers kept moving, continuing that same simple melody while he hummed the counterpoint over the top.

"That was beautiful," Gabriella breathed. The simplicity of the song had got to her, along with the candid words. "Did you write it?"

Troy laughed softly, placing the guitar down beside him. "No, I can't take the credit for that. It was a song my Dad liked, and it was the first one I taught myself to play." He smiled at her, and she saw the pain in his eyes. Not what she normally saw there, but something more recognisable and understandable: it was simply the pain of having lost his parents.

"Well, I think it's wonderful," she stated bluntly. Troy laughed softly.

"Well, I'm glad you like it. But I don't think I'll be playing it much anymore," he replied while looking over the sheet copy of Kelsi's song she had just handed over.

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I guess... I'm not feeling like that right now."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

Also, this time the song is from HSM3, which, by implcation, I... yes, you guessed it, don't own.

* * *

Chapter Five: Game Day

The shrill sound of the whistle, harsh above the sounds of cheers and yells, brought Gabriella out of her reverie with an almost tangible bump. The game had started, and she was quietly excited, though a little apprehensive. She wasn't the only wildcat supporter here: a small contingent of die-hard fans and hangers-on clustered together at the bottom of the home team bleachers, mainly parents, a few teachers, a couple of dispirited-looking cheerleaders, and the coach. He was a big man; not tall, but incredibly muscular. It was only too obvious that he didn't care for this sport: he spent the whole time yelling abuse at his whole team, and muttering about how his beloved football team would do a better job.

Gabriella would be the first to admit that she didn't know much about basketball. It had never seemed that important before, perhaps slightly more attractive to her than football or baseball, but irrelevant to her world of academia. Now, though, she watched with interest, and gained the impression that things were not going as expected. There were expressions of surprise and anger on the faces on the bleachers opposite, and amazement on her own. On the court everything was a confused blur, but her impression was that the red uniformed wildcats seemed to have the ball more often. A lot of times, when one of the West High Knights, kitted in their dark blue jerseys and shorts, were dribbling the ball down the court, there would be a red flash, and suddenly the whole game switched directions, the wildcats swarming in a bewildering pattern that almost always led to the ball dropping through the Knights' basket.

She tried to keep her eyes on Troy, but it was difficult: he was quick, not just while travelling, but he ducked and dived with a speed that was hard to follow, obviously for the opposing team as much as for her. And, she noticed, he wasn't greedy with the ball. His shots at the basket hit without fail, always finding the little bit of extra air to keep them out of the grasp of the struggling Knights, and always with pinpoint accuracy, but more often he would pass the ball on, sometimes with a quick chest-pass, sometimes with a bounce pass designed to slip through an opposing player's guard, allowing a team mate to take a shot from what he judged to be a more desirable angle.

The scoreboard was impressive: by half-time, the wildcats were leading 53-21, and the murmurs going round the gym were excited and puzzled at the same time. She smiled, thinking back to earlier that day.

***

_That morning, free period._

"Hey! I thought you weren't coming." Troy's expression of relief was genuine, and he seemed happy to see her too.

Gabriella laughed, and they made their way into the auditorium together, sitting right at the back and listening to the girl currently singing her audition. She had a nice voice, but it lacked power, and she was obviously nervous. Ms Darbus praised her, and recommended that she take a supporting role for this musical, for which the girl in question seemed quite grateful.

"Sorry, I got caught up with an experiment: it wouldn't work, so I had to leave Taylor to it," she whispered, her eyes not leaving the stage, where an over-dressed sophomore with bad skin was stumbling his way through the song.

Troy frowned. "Didn't she mind you leaving for this? Chad nearly had a fit when I told him I couldn't make the team work-out."

Gabriella turned to look at him. "Yeah, she was a little frustrated, but we can't always do what our friends want us to, Troy. Sometimes we've just got to be who we are."

He was silent for a while, and unsmiling. Eventually he sighed, his blue eyes staring at an empty point in the air. "I guess you're right. I just... wish I knew who I really am. I mean, I used to know. You know, before." His eyes dropped, and Gabriella grabbed his hand, knowing that he was thinking about his parents, and wanting to comfort him. He gave her a quick, grateful smile, before his face turned pensive again.

"Before, I always knew I wanted to play basketball. It was the most important thing in my life. But, after everything... it changed me, you know?" He paused. "I'm not that guy anymore. The game is still important to me, and I still love it, but so are other things. I mean, music, books, my friends, Tash, they're all so important, and I think they're more important than basketball. But, people keep, I don't know, pushing me into this pigeon-whole. I'm Troy Bolton, the basketball guy. The loser."

"Hey, don't talk like that. Remember what I said yesterday?" She smiled suddenly, and Troy was once again caught by how beautiful that smile seemed. He smiled back, unable to help himself.

"Screw them."

"Damn right," she answered, and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, just as Ms Darbus called out their names.

There was silence in the auditorium, and when they got up onto the stage, Gabriella caught sight of Sharpay and Ryan standing in the wings, having finished their audition shortly before. While Ryan looked quietly pleased, Sharpay seemed stunned, and Gabriella wasn't certain whether her friend was reacting to her auditioning, or her auditioning with Troy.

Troy's nervous expression had changed to one of shock after the unprecedented if purely platonic kiss, but once Kelsi started playing the music, he came back to himself, and focused his attention on Gabriella.

"_Can you imagine what would happen_

_If we could have any dream?_

_I'd wish the moment was ours to own it,_

_And that it would never leave."_

Down in the auditorium, Ms Darbus leaned forward, suddenly paying attention to what was happening on the stage. She had assumed when she read the names on the sheet that Bolton was just after some extra credit, or that the new girl, Miss Montez, had cajoled him into doing it because she didn't want to do the audition on her own. Never had the teacher ever imagined that the quietist boy in her homeroom class had such a wonderful voice. Turning a purely technical ear on it for a moment, she judged that Bolton probably had a smaller range than Ryan Evans, whom she had always relied on before, but he had a very different voice: it had a soothing, slightly husky quality to it, not better or worse than Ryan's clear and unadulterated tenor, but just as valuable. She turned her head, peering at the new girl. She knew that Sharpay had been trying to get Montez to audition, but didn't know what to expect.

"_Then I would thank that star_

_That made our wish come true._

'_Cause he knows that_

_Where you are_

_Is where I should be too."_

Eleanor Darbus leaned back again, folding her arms as she looked at the two young people on the stage. Well, well, well, a double surprise. Again, Miss Montez offered something different from Miss Evans. Both seemed to be unschooled, but Gabriella's voice again had a softer, more expressive tone than Sharpay's, and one that was just as pleasant to listen to. She realised that she was holding her breath, waiting to hear the two sing together. That would be the true test.

"_Right here, right now,_

_I'm looking at you,_

_And my Heart loves the view,_

'_Cos you mean everything._

_Right here, I promise you somehow_

_That tomorrow can wait_

_For some other day_

_To be,_

_But right now there's you and me."_

Ms Darbus smiled thinly. Now, _that_ was what she wanted. Her biggest, though never uttered, problem with Sharpay and Ryan having leading roles was that the chemistry was always all wrong. It was never something easily describable, but the bottom line was that the leading couple were almost always supposed to be romantically linked, and as good as they were at acting, the Evans twins were brother and sister, and it showed. These two, though... there was something very, very real about their communication, something immediate and fresh. If she had to guess, Darbus would say that they were quite newly together, or perhaps not together yet. The feelings were obvious to her, though, who had witnessed the maturing of countless teenagers into young adults. This was something very special, and it was being played out in front of her to Kelsi's wonderful music.

"_If this was forever,_

_What could be better?_

_We already proved it works._

_But in two-thousand one hundred_

_Twenty-three hours, a bend in the universe_

_Is gonna make everything_

_In our whole world change,_

_And you know that where we are_

_Will never be the same,_

"_Right here, right now,_

_I'm looking at you,_

_And my heart loves the view,_

'_Cause you mean everything._

_Right here, promise you somehow_

_Tomorrow can wait_

_For some other day_

_To be,_

_But right now there's you and me."_

The couple were singing their hearts out, seemingly oblivious that anyone was watching them, but instinctively moving all the time to present the best spectacle to the as yet phantom audience. The way they danced was so natural: it wasn't like Ryan's carefully choreographed movements, but more spontaneous, as if they were coming up with them on the spot. They would hold each other, swing each other by the hand, separate for short periods, only to come back together as if magnetically drawn.

"_Oh we know it's coming,_

_And it's coming fast._

_There's always you and me._

_So let's make ev'ry second last,_

_Make it last._

"_Right here, right now,_

_Yeah, I'm looking at you_

_And my heart loves the view_

'_Cause you mean everything._

_Right here I promise you somehow_

_That tomorrow can wait_

_For some other day_

_To be,_

_But right now there's you and me,_

_You and me,_

_You and me._

_You and me,_

_But right now there's you and me."_

As the song wound down to its calmer, more contemplative close, Troy reached out for Gabriella's hand, and they stared into each other's eyes as they held the last note, and for a while afterwards, unaware of the wild applause from the backstage crew and those watching from the front. Eventually, though, they were jerked out of their thoughts as Ms Darbus strode onto the stage, a galleon under full sail.

"Marvellous, quite marvellous. You most certainly have a call-back. Kelsi, will you be a dear and go through the other duet with them?"

Kelsi nodded enthusiastically, a massive grin spread over her small face, and rushed over to them with Ryan following close behind as Ms Darbus went to discuss a few ideas with the lighting engineer.

"Gabby, that was so good! I'm so glad you finally caved to Sharpay. Maybe this time I won't have to deal with all her pre-show stress," Ryan enthused, pulling her into a swift, brotherly hug. He then turned to Troy. "And... wow, man, that was awesome. Where have you been hiding yourself all this time?"

Troy smiled back, but Gabriella could tell it was forced. "Oh, just took a while to work up the courage."

Gabriella draped her arm around Troy's waist, offering a little support, and was glad to feel his snake around her shoulder, almost like an instinctive gesture. She looked around, looking for someone, but couldn't see them. "Hey, Ry, where's Sharpay?"

Ryan's smile faded a miniscule amount.

"Er, I think she had to meet up with Taylor. She was here, though, she was really impressed."

Gabriella frowned, but brightened up when Kelsi started talking about rehearsals and practices. Troy wasn't smiling. He was looking absently into the distance, wondering if he'd be able to give the musical the commitment it needed. Well, he'd just have to do really well at school, too, and then there was the match tonight...

He sighed, and turned back to the others.

"Listen, I've got to go. Class starts in a few minutes, you know."

Gabriella gasped, looking at her own watch. "I had no idea I was so late! Troy, I'll see you later," she called as she dashed out, hoping she would be in time for physics. Troy watched her leave, and then slouched off the stage, his mind definitely elsewhere.

***

Troy leaned back on his locker, blocking out the chatter going on around him and focusing all his attention on the tape he was winding round his fingers: a collision had bent them back a bit, and they were starting to bruise.

So many thoughts were whirling through his head. The game, the team, Gabriella, the audition, his foster-parents, his sister... he took a sip of water and sat down, trying to find somewhere calm. Nevertheless, his mind was taken back to the conversation he'd had with Chad and the others just before the match.

***

"Troy, dude, what's happening man?"

Troy looked up from his bench, and a small smile broke through the pensive face he had worn since the audition. Zeke, Jason and Chad had been his best friends since grade school, and even though things had changed a lot in the last two years, they had stuck with him. On the other hand, he had realised this conversation was coming. The truth was going to be difficult for them to understand.

"What do you mean?" he hedged, hoping to gain some time.

"You know what we mean, Troy." Troy grimaced internally. There was a time when Jason never used his actual name. He had always been T-man or Hoops or some weird variation or hybrid of the two. It showed how much things had changed. "You haven't missed practice since... well, ever." Jason was a great friend, but he had a slight habit of not thinking through to the end of the sentence before saying it. Zeke took over.

"And now, the day after that inspiring little pep-talk you gave yesterday, you're mysteriously absent?"

"We think we have a right to know what's going on," Chad stated firmly. Troy sighed, knowing there was no way out of this one, and hoping they were as good friends as he thought.

"Guys, I think the first thing I have to tell you will be the most difficult, so I'm just going to shoot. Basketball is not the most important thing in my life."

There was silence for a moment. Chad and Jason both opened their mouths, silently gaping at their friend, and Troy almost laughed at their expressions. Almost. Zeke, though, nodded thoughtfully.

"I know what you mean, man. I mean, I love it, and I love playing with you guys, but I don't want it to be the only thing I'm about."

Troy nodded decisively. "That's exactly it. So, now I'm going to tell you my big secret. The thing that is the most important to me is music. I love singing it, I love playing it, I love writing it, listening to it, I just love it. And I need you to understand that I love basketball, and that there's nowhere I'd rather be right now, but that sometimes, other things are going to take priority."

Jason was nodding slowly, but Chad still looked confused, and Troy sighed, waiting for his best friend to speak. "But, you've never said anything. Last I knew, it was your dream to go to U of A and be a Redhawk. It was mine too, still is."

"And that's cool, man. Really, I hope you're the next big star in the game, but people change, Chad, and I have. I guess it's not really that surprising."

The other three nodded slowly: this was a lot to take in, and it was going to have to happen slowly. Finally Jason spoke up.

"So, today you were..."

Troy took a deep breath. "Today I was auditioning for the spring musical, with the new girl, Gabriella. She's got a fantastic voice, and we did really well. We have a call back, so we have a shot at being the leads in the musical."

There was silence again, and Troy was worried, but eventually Chad's frown turned into a genuine smile. "Well, congratulations, man. It's good to be doing what you like. I'm sure we'll be seeing you on Broadway any day now."

The four boys laughed and left the locker room, ready to start the game, when a thought struck him and a sly smile spread across his face. "So, Zeke, what's your big secret?"

***

The ball skittered round the rim of the basket, before dropping decisively through it, the bell for the end of the game accompanied by loud roars from the Wildcat supporters. 72-63. The Knights had come back strongly in the second half, obviously overcoming the shock at having a real challenge from a team with such a bad reputation, but it hadn't been enough. Tonight, the Wildcats had been on fire, and the elation shared by the team and their supporters was amazing. Troy felt a little sad at first, watching his teammates embraced and congratulated by friends and family while he stood alone, but then a small, brunette missile was hurtling straight for a spot somewhere between his eyes, and it was all he could do to catch her, spinning her around purely as a method of reducing her momentum so she didn't send them both hurtling into the opposite wall.

"You were incredible!" Gabriella's eyes were alight with excitement, her cheeks flushed, and her hair falling randomly around her face like rain tracks on a window. Troy thought she had never looked more beautiful, and hugged her tightly for a moment, before breaking the embrace and taking her over to join the celebrations with the team. The whole time, though, he never let go of her, his arm secure around her slim waist, unwilling to part company from her. She seemed to agree, pressing herself to his side as she was included in the en-masse hugs shared by the team.

She finally let go only when Troy left for the showers, and as soon as he emerged from the locker room, changed and with wet hair but just as exhilarated as before, she grabbed his hand straight away, and held on as they walked home, talking non-stop about the match. Troy realised that he felt like he could face anything right now: the school, the team, Steve and Shirley... maybe even Tash.

Right now, he felt invincible.

* * *

AN: I don't usually do these, but I felt like it, so there.

In case anyone's wondering, I don't update when I get a certain number of reviews. Reviews are great, and I appreciate them, but I write for the joy of writing, and I'll update when I have something to update. Charging readers reviews for more updates just feels like... prostituting myself, somehow. And that's an image I never want to enter my mind again.

So, yes: review if you feel like it, don't if you don't, keep on keeping on, and above all my man, rock on.

(Anyone who can tell me what at least part of that is from, you'll get nothing. Well, maybe a mention if I'm feeling generous.)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

* * *

Chapter Six: A Grey Day

Gabriella sat with her eyes fixed on Ryan's encouraging smile, trying to keep herself calm. She had known, in a round-about sort of way, that everything would come out at some point, and that this would be hard for her friends to hear, but she hadn't expected opposition on quite this scale. Taylor hadn't touched her lunch, instead choosing to keep up a continuous and highly impressive stream-of-consciousness narrative.

Martha looked confused and anxious, Kelsi excited. Sharpay was looking completely emotionless, and it was her Gabriella was most worries about. Sharpay was never silent, and it was unheard of for her not to broadcast her current emotions on loud-speaker to anyone in range.

"...and I mean, okay, maybe some of the team aren't too bad, but Gabi, Troy Bolton? He's such a loser, he's always in trouble, always getting into fights, everyone knows he drinks and does drugs, his foster-parents are always having trouble with him, he doesn't do well at school, he-"

"Taylor, stop!" Much to everyone's surprise, Taylor stopped, actually looking quite pleased to have the opportunity to breathe. Gabriella took the opportunity to put her point of view across. "I'm not convinced that any of that's true. All anyone really knows about him is that he comes in looking like he lost a fight with a lawn mower too often. And by the way, I sneaked a look at a few grade books. He's not doing badly in school. He never gets anything lower than a B, and As aren't exactly unheard of."

"But, Gabi, you've only been here a few months, and a couple of weeks ago you wouldn't even have recognised his name. What makes you think you should get involved?" Martha asked, concern written bold across her round, good-natured face.

"Since I met him, I've already learned loads of stuff about him. For example, he's a really talented musician. He doesn't just sing, he plays piano and guitar, and even writes his own music."

Over the sounds of impressed appreciation from Ryan and Kelsi, Taylor reinserted herself into the debate after her brief respite. "But how did you even meet him?" She was clearly getting exasperated. First the audition, then Gabriella missing the decathlon practice, all over some boy who was clearly a troublemaker? Taylor's organised mind couldn't really accept it. "A fortnight ago, you didn't know him from Adam. Now suddenly he's like this majorly important person. What happened?"

A sly smile crept over Gabriella's face, which was surprisingly well suited to the expression. "Well, that was before he saved my life," she said with an absent, dismissive hand gesture.

She had to struggle not to laugh loudly, the affect of this statement was so comical. All five of her friends froze in the middle of what they were doing, including Kelsi whose sandwich was halted an inch from her mouth, tuna mayonnaise slowly dripping onto the table. Even Sharpay was jerked from one stasis to another, her eyes flicking over to Gabriella with an almost audible thump while the rest of her stayed completely stationary. Gabriella looked down, secretly attempting to maintain her composure but to observers simply engrossed in her own sandwich, which was really quite nice.

"Gabriella Montez."

"Taylor McKessie," she couldn't help teasing.

"You will explain yourself this instant!"

"Wow. You been taking lessons from Ms D?" Despite herself, Martha snorted with laughter, quickly muffling it with her own hand. Gabriella decided to put her friends out of their misery.

"Look, about a week and a half ago, I nearly got run over, and it was Troy who pushed me out of the way. Since then, I think I've got to know him a bit, and I just can't understand where all these rumours could have come from, because that's just not the Troy I know." She shrugged.

Sharpay's eyes slid back to their previous position, seemingly scrutinising the table in minute detail. Kelsi rescued her sandwich. Finally, Martha spoke up.

"Look, I think we can all identify with wanting to defend someone who stopped you getting hurt, and maybe even accept that the stories about Troy have got a bit exaggerated. But what has any of this got to do with you missing decathlon practice on Friday?"

"Well." Gabriella was hesitant this time; she hadn't told anyone where she'd gone on Friday night yet. "I told Troy I'd go to the basketball game."

She was a little surprised at the response she got: a round of sniggers from all quarters. Even Sharpay's mouth twitched a little. "What?" Gabriella demanded, a little put off.

"It's just that, well, that must have been an enlightening experience for you. I imagine you were bored out of your skull." Everyone nodded along with what Ryan was saying. "What was the score?" His face was all smiles now.

"72-63."

"Oh, not as poor as usual then."

"To us! Haven't you heard people talking today?"

"Come on, Gabi, stop pulling my leg."

Gabriella stood, gathering her lunch things together. "Just look at the boards if you don't believe me. I need to go find Troy, if he's here. He missed homeroom." She turned and walked away, purposefully not looking at the wide-eyed group she had left behind. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about how the conversation had gone, but was at least relieved that it was done, and happy in a way that she had made a start at reconciling what were becoming two very important parts of her life.

The music room, when she checked it, was empty. She frowned, thinking hard, eyes raking the walls as she wondered where to check next, when she noticed something unusual. Racks surrounded the room, normally home to various instruments, with larger ones like the grand piano and other large percussion arranged around the floor. On one wall were two complete racks of acoustic guitars. They were mostly old and worn, in need of a polish at best and new strings at worst. In one spot, though, was an absence, showing the faded yellow of the wall behind the wood-tone instruments. Someone had taken a guitar, and left the room with it, which was even more unusual: they weren't technically meant to take anything out of the music room. That was a clue, she reasoned.

Unfortunately, though, her first idea proved wrong: when she checked the auditorium it was empty, except for Ms Darbus supervising a lunch time detention and lecturing on the ultimate force of darkness (i.e. cell phones). Gabriella was about to head over to the library to check there, in case Troy was catching up with some work, when she noticed a door standing ajar. She had no idea where it went, still being relatively new to the school, but when she paused to look at it, she thought she caught a few notes of guitar music, floating down to her as if on a breeze.

Quickly and quietly, unsure if this was really allowed, she slipped through the door and climbed the stairs beyond it, her curiosity growing with the volume of the music as she got nearer to its origins. She emerged blinking in the bright New Mexico sunshine, looking around and blinking after the shady interior corridors.

The roof of East High was pretty much as she would have expected: largely flat and uninteresting, dotted here and there with vents, outlets and even one or two skylights. Over the top of the stairs, though, a pagoda had been constructed from scaffolding poles and corrugated iron, providing shelter for the shelves holding potted plants, which stood where the walls would be. There must have been around fifty plants, ranging from small, blushing flowers to others she couldn't identify, while still appreciating the strong, healthy green colour of their growth.

A bench was positioned looking away from her, out over Albuquerque and beyond to the mountains, and Troy was sat on it, seemingly a million miles away as his fingers idly tripped over the guitar strings, while his left hand moved up and down the fret board seemingly without effort. She made her way over, attempting to make some noise, as she didn't want to startle him, but not so much as to interrupt his music.

"Mind if I join you?"

He smiled up at her, his fingers growing still. "Sure. I have to admit, though, I didn't expect anyone to find me here. It's kind of my place, you know?"

"Oh." Gabriella found she felt mildly hurt, and wondered why. "I can go if you want to be alone..."

"No, please stay," he interrupted, laying a hand on her arm briefly. His smile was genuine: the black eye was almost completely healed now, and a white gauze dressing hid the ugly scar on his cheek.

She sat, carefully choosing a distance she judged to be just right: neither too near, not too far from him. It was amazing how much thought she could put into such trivial things, she noted absently. "Thanks, I will. You've got yourself a really nice spot here, you know."

He chuckled. "You'll have to thank the gardening club, if you can find any of them. They made this place a couple of semesters back, and then the club folded recently. They just left this. I think I'm the only one who remembers it. Well, and now you, I guess."

She giggled too, his humour infectious, and as he started to play softly again she closed her eyes and took a deep, luxurious breath, smelling the sunshine and the fresh soil: the smells of growing things. Then she looked over at him again, suddenly and inexplicably shy, but determined none the less.

"Is now a good time?"

He knew what she meant. His fingers stilled again, and he let out a deep breath as he set the guitar aside, folding his hands in his map instead and not tearing his eyes from the panorama before them. "I said I'd tell you today, and... I suppose here and now as probably the best place. While it's still peaceful." Suddenly his eyes flicked to hers, pinning her where she sat. "But, you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone what I tell you, no matter how much you think it needs to be said. You have to understand, this is my problem, and I'm dealing with it the best way I know how."

He cocked his head, as if examining her, his blazing blue orbs not moving for a moment. Gabriella felt her breath coming weakly, as if this intense contact between them, whatever it was, was impairing her ability to function properly. "I'm not even sure why I'm telling you. We don't exactly know each other well. It's just... I think I can trust you. And I've been wanting to trust someone for a long time."

She nodded, unwilling to break either the mood or his concentration by speaking. Troy took a deep breath, and broke the contact, looking out over the city again.

"My foster parents... they're difficult." Against her will, Gabriella made a tiny noise, a sound of incredulity. Troy looked at her sharply for a moment, and she felt like cursing herself for not keeping silent, but Troy grinned sheepishly at her. Gabriella swore to stay quiet, and ignore the butterflies fluttering in her stomach at that lopsided grin. "I guess that really is quite the understatement, but you need to understand, the only way I've been able to handle all of this is by rationalising it, and making myself believe that it's all not a big deal. Or trying to, at least.

"Anyway, they, both of them, are pretty obsessed with... with their image, I guess." He ran his fingers through his hair, obviously not entirely sure how really to begin the story. "They were high-school sweethearts, prom King and Queen, Steve was Senior Class President, Jean was Valedictorian. They went to college together, Brown University, and got married pretty much straight afterwards. Everyone thought they were the perfect couple. They were young, successful, professional... perfect. I guess they started believing it."

Gabriella glanced at his hands, clasped together in his lap, tense, every muscle contracted. He was still nervous. Tentatively, she placed one hand on his shoulder. He flashed her an appreciative smile, before returning to his contemplation of the city and his narrative.

"I suppose that it's not much of a leap, wanting to go from the perfect couple to the perfect family. I mean, it's logical, right?" Gabriella nodded, although the question was rhetorical and Troy couldn't see her anyway. "So, they started trying to have kids. For years, actually. After a long time they still hadn't managed it, and after some tests, they found out that... well, I don't know the details, but it boils down to the fact that they can't have children of their own. They started looking to foster.

"That seems fair enough, doesn't it? Except, they didn't want to foster a baby. No, they wanted older kids, who would be able to take care of themselves and wouldn't be so constantly demanding, since neither of them really wanted to leave their jobs. But the point is, they were thinking about the image, not the kid, right?" This time he looked at her, and she nodded again, since it was obvious he needed to know that she understood before continuing. He took another deep breath.

"When our mum and dad died, it seemed to them like a perfect fit to them. And to us too, I guess, at the time. We weren't going to have to leave our home town and our friends, and more than just responsible teenage kids, the Masons were getting local kids, so there wouldn't be the problems you get with moving to a new place. It was almost like we came prepared to just slot neatly into their lives, and they were happy with that.

"I barely noticed. I... didn't take _it_ well, you know?" He was obviously trying hard, even if only subconsciously, to avoid mentioning his parents' murders directly. Gabriella could hardly blame him for that, and nodded vigorously to show that she understood. "In fact, I took it really hard. My school work slipped, my game- basketball, that is," he shot her a quick smile, "I... pulled away from my friends, I guess, stopped talking to anyone, got really withdrawn. I mean, all things considered, it was understandable really.

Steve and Jean, though, they couldn't accept underachieving. That didn't fit their precious _image_." For the first time, Gabriella thought she heard some bitterness creep into his voice. She gave his shoulder a squeeze, but he didn't respond. "They wanted their 'children' to be just as successful, just as perfect as they were, as they always had been. It turned into a real obsession for them, to the point where they started punishing me, just because I still wasn't coping well. It started with just, you know, normal stuff. Getting grounded, allowance docked, that kind of thing. I didn't like it, but I could understand it. After all, my teachers were beginning to despair of me, though one or two asked if I had had any counselling, and thought I needed it. I expect it would have helped a lot. No such luck, though.

"But then, things began to get worse. I wasn't improving, so they just started using stronger and stronger punishments, to the point where they started just hitting me." Gabriella had known that it was coming, but to hear it said so plainly was still shocking. "They would slap me, rap my knuckles, still really punishments, but then Steve started getting more violent. Sometimes he goes drinking after work. He doesn't get drunk, doctors can't be seen walking round drunk. But a couple of drinks really bring out his mean streak. He started using fists on me instead of open hands, he kicked me, and a few times he'd use something to hit me. I mean, this?" He pointed at the nearly-healed black eye. "He hit me round the face with a kitchen stool when he saw I'd dripped blood on the carpet, that Friday night.

"And the things I got punished for, they got stupid too. After the violence began, I started really working at school, trying to stave off any more. I thought that if they didn't have an excuse for it, it would all stop. But their expectations grew; they wanted me to be a star pupil, and an all-star basketball player, just because that fitted better with their damn image." He took another deep breath before going on. Gabriella couldn't speak. After saving her life, getting injured in the process, he was hit in the face with a chair for getting the carpet messy?

"So, yeah, now for any grade I get below an A, I'm grounded. A B- usually means a couple of bruises, although they're careful that they're never anywhere visible. Lose a basketball game, I'll probably ache for a week. Although, winning doesn't seem to be any better." He let out a mirthless chuckled, and Gabriella gasped as she was jolted from her fascinated horror.

"He... he punished you on Friday? After the game?"

Troy shook his head, absently grabbing her hand with both of his, and rubbing her knuckles with his thumb as he looked out over Albuquerque once more. "On Saturday. Apparently I was acting too cocky, and needed taking down a peg." He reached up with one hand, the other still holding hers, and gingerly reached up and peeled up the dressing on his cheek. Gabriella gasped yet again. The cut from her accident was even worse that before, red, dark, inflamed... it looked like the stitches had been deliberately pulled apart, tearing the wound open afresh in the process.

Gabriella felt her eyes welling up. Before she could stop herself, she had flung herself on Troy, wrapping her arms around his torso and hugging him as if her life, or maybe his life, depended on it, while she pressed the side of her head to his chest, urgently listening for his strong heartbeat and crying in real earnest. Slowly and tentatively, having no experience of this before, Troy reciprocated. Holding her close, he thought about how amazing this girl was, who had got him to talk after they knew each other for less than two weeks, and unable to escape the irony that _he_ was the one comforting _her_.

"Hey, hey. Don't cry. It's not that bad, really. In a year's time, I'll be eighteen, and I can move out. I won't be their problem anymore, and I'll be free."

"But Troy, you shouldn't be anyone's problem! You shouldn't be a problem at all! It's so unfair!" Gabriella realised she sounded like a particularly petulant teenage stereotype, but didn't much care at that precise moment. She pulled away from him, but didn't release him entirely, so that they just sat side by side, their arms around each other. She looked into his stormy blue eyes, and realised that, what she was hearing aside, she was glad to be let in like this, to be this close to him. He shrugged gently.

"I know it's not fair... Ella?" He said the word very tentatively, obviously worried that she would take offence at being referred to with a pet name, but she nodded, smiling at him brightly through the tears. She had always disliked the nicknames people gave her: Gabby or Gabi she could tolerate, but she hated Gabs, Gab, Brie... for such a nice name, Gabriella was very hard to abbreviate satisfactorily. Somehow, though, she liked Ella, and what she liked more was that no one had even tried to call her that before. It was new, and because it was him using it, it was... special. He smiled back at her affirmation, before turning away again. "It's just the way it is."

"Troy, is shouldn't have to be. It _doesn't_ have to be." All of a sudden, Gabriella realised how weird the entire situation was. Her, Gabriella Montez, crying? She couldn't remember actually crying since her father died when she was little. Nothing had been able to penetrate the walls she'd built around herself after that. And yet, hearing the truth about Troy Bolton, who he was, what he lived through, had managed to do what any number of sad movies, bullies and friends parted from too soon had failed to do. What was happening to her? Why did she feel different? Shaking the bewilderment, she got back to the point in hand. "Is there some reason you let this go on? Because you could stop it easily, you know."

Troy sighed. "I know. I mean, Even though they're the perfect couple, it's not like I haven't got proof of what's happening. I did consider it for a while, but... well, there's Tash."

Gabriella's eyebrows knitted in confusion. It was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes that Tash wasn't being abused, and since she believed the 'juvenile delinquent' version of Troy's character, it was also pretty clear that she didn't know he was, either. But then, why would Troy be worried? Unless-

"Wait, did they threaten to hurt her? Did they threaten to hurt Tash if you told anyone?" She could hear her voice rising in near hysteria at the thought, and her head had jerked up in alarm, nearly butting Troy in the face. Almost instinctively, though, Troy's arms tightened around her, soothing and calming her all at once. She fought the urge to nestle into the protective circle they created.

"No, nothing like that. The thing is, Tash is pretty much the perfect kid for them, you know? She's so smart, and pretty and popular, Steve and Jean just love her, and she loves them too, because she has a great life. Her foster parents are supportive, she has everything she could possibly want... you know she already has a car?" Gabriella shook her head, unable to form words. Troy snorted. "Not even old enough to _learn_ to drive, but she has a car. My point is though," he continued, losing the moment of bitterness, "she has a good life, and they're good parents to her. I could go to the authorities and spill everything, but that would be so bad for Tash. She would be disrupted again. Poor kids already had her parents die; she doesn't need this, too."

"But... but she believes them." Gabriella's voice was so quiet Troy had to bend closer to hear her. "She believes all those horrible things about you. She believes you fight and drink and all the rest of it. How can you stand it?"

Troy shrugged, feeling a bit awkward now. "It's necessary, Ella. I know it's not true, and you do too now. My team mates know I'm not like that, although I don't tell them everything. Honestly, I can handle Tash believing what everyone says, if it means that she can enjoy her life a little more."

There was silence for a while as the breeze stroked the roof. Gabriella realised that they'd been up here a long time, and were now very late for class. She had always been horror-struck at the thought of missing class, but she didn't care now. Now she knew that there were more important things. And suddenly, she decided to do something else she never had before, and in her deepest heart never thought she would. She leaned up and placed a soft, sweet kiss on Troy's lips. He didn't react, although it wasn't really long enough to allow for any reaction, but as she pulled away he was staring at her in something close to awe. She smiled at him again, even though tears were still creeping down her golden cheeks.

"I think, Troy Bolton, that you're probably the most amazing person I've ever met."

Troy's eyes were wide, the bright blues making him seem so innocent, and Gabriella smiled at the sight of them. His mouth opened a few times, but he seemed unable to form whole words. Gabriella continued.

"I've never met anyone so selfless, so concerned for everyone else. I've never met anyone willing to go through what you do for someone else. I think you're incredible, and I'm very glad that you're my friend."

She leaned up and kissed him again, longer this time. His lips were dry, but softened as he started to kiss her back, his lips moving against hers so sweetly, she could feel her toes curling in her shoes. She pulled away again, and smiled up at him. He licked his lips, and took a deep breath?

"Friend?" His voice croaked; he was obviously still stunned from the kiss. Gabriella felt a little stunned too, and nodded gently. Troy took a deep breath. "Or... look, Gabriella, will you be my girlfriend?"

Gabriella maintained her emotionless, calculating mask for as long as she could before breaking. It wasn't that long, truth be told, but despite everything, she couldn't resist teasing him a little before relenting. She hugged him close, burrowing her hear into the crook of his arm, and smiled up at him.

"Of course I will."

* * *

AN: Right, so hope you enjoyed this. Sorry it took a long time: I wrote most of it freehand, but then it took ages to write up, and Easter is kind of a busy time of year for me anyway. Hopefully I'll get quicker.

BTW, I'd appreciate some feedback on my other story, Twisted Cinders, if people feel like reading it. It's not quite as depressing as the title, now that I think about it, might suggest.

See you soon...

Tom (ZZ9)


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own High School Musical, any of the characters, or any of their songs. I'm not even entirely certain about this storyline...

* * *

Chapter Seven: Conversations, Inspirations

Troy staggered into the classroom, glad to see it empty. Coming in early was always easier: it allowed him to avoid some of the stares and whispers. He sat down at his usual back row desk, wincing as his bruised back came into contact with the chair. Normally he would sit and look out the window at the utterly uninteresting view outside while alone like this, but today he felt like he needed to do something. He pulled out his school books and began to look over the homework he had to hand in today.

That was one thing that was definitely a plus about having a girlfriend, he though with a bemused smile on his face. His foster parents had not been happy when he had been late home one day last week, and told them he had been studying at his girlfriend's house. In fact, their displeasure had been very... definite. He winced again, trying to shift his back into a slightly more comfortable position.

When the homework he had done with her had yielded some of the best marks he had ever received, they changed their tune. Dramatically. He guessed that, essentially, she was good for the image. He could just picture them talking to other parents. _"Oh, well, Troy had some problems for a while, but he's started to see a lovely girl, so intelligent, and she's really rubbing off on Troy, such a good influence..."_

He didn't like it much, but he could certainly live with it. And it wasn't just academics that were improving: basketball was better now, for no reason that Troy could adequately explain, although he would never question it. His attitude was better now, too. Sure, he had had his plan, to put up with everything for as long as necessary for Tash's sake, but he hadn't been happy, of course, and hadn't even been able to pretend that it was the case. Now, even the teachers were beginning to notice and comment on the change in him. He smiled slightly.

It was so weird. He had never imagined that he would have a girlfriend, or at least, not while still at school. And considering who his girlfriend was... he felt blessed. Blessed that Gabriella Montez, for some obscure reason, liked him, and liked him enough to be with him. For the first time, Troy felt like he had someone he could share anything with. He could tell her about his problems at home, about how much he missed Tash and his parents, albeit in different ways. They could share music together, discuss books (being grounded on a semi-permanent basis, Troy had gotten through a lot of books in the last couple of years), and best of all, he could laugh with her, and frequently did, as they competed in games of pure silliness, the reward to the winner being nothing more than to make the other laugh.

Sometimes he worried. They had been together for two weeks, known each other ten days longer than that. In that time, Troy was aware that, while Gabriella had done more for him than he could easily quantify, he was doing little for her. The fact that she didn't seem to need very much, beyond general encouragement, especially for scholastic decathlon competitions, didn't cheer him very much. He only consoled himself with the fierce knowledge that he would do literally anything for her, and if she ever did need him, nothing was going to keep him from her.

His hand shot up. He hadn't even registered the ball coming at him, not consciously, and he was secretly glad that he hadn't even looked up from the history paper he was checking over. That had to look impressive. He finished the sentence he was reading, before looking up and smirking at Chad, who was shaking his head with a smile on his face.

"Chad, how long have we known each other? You should know by now, you can't sneak anything past me."

"Gotta keep trying, man. Someday you'll slip up."

"Keep telling yourself that, Chad. You know as well as I do, Basketball is not something I make mistakes at."

Chad folded his lanky frame into his own desk, holding his hands behind his neck as he leaned back. "Ah, you make mistakes. You don't know everything, Bolton,"

Troy grinned, raising one eyebrow at his friend. "I know enough."

"Oh yeah?"

Troy's grin widened. "In that, I know you have a secret, forbidden love for the guitar, and I'm not completely above sharing that info."

Chad's eyes widened. "You tell anyone, no one will ever find your body. Seriously, man."

Troy chuckled, throwing the ball back and keeping his hand raised in surrender. "You're secret's safe with me, although you know it shouldn't be. Chad, you're good. No one is going to look down on you for playing the guitar. I mean, I don't think anyone looks down on me for singing, and guitar is so much cooler."

Chad grunted. "Well, you still don't know everything, Troy."

A devilish smile flitted across Troy's face as he looked back at his homework. "Of course not. For example, I certainly don't know that you're majorly crushing on Taylor McKessie."

There was silence for quite a long time. Troy had to work hard to keep his eyes on the page in front of him, as well as to stop from laughing.

"How... how did you know?" Chad's voice was a croak. Troy looked up to see that he had dropped the ever-present basketball, and inwardly punched the air: dead on.

"Wasn't sure till right now, man, but it made sense. You always act a little different around her, and anyway, there's a certain pleasing symmetry to the whole thing."

Chad looked puzzled now. "Whu?"

"Oh yes, my monosyllabic friend, it seems perfectly apparent that almost the entire team is inflicted with a certain masochistic perversity."

Chad screwed up his eyes. "English, man, before I hurt you. What about the team?"

Troy chuckled again, looking back at his friend. "Well, not the team, but my best friends anyway. All of us are taken with girls laughably far out of our league. I mean, me and Ella, obviously..."

"Obviously," Chad muttered under his breath. He'd never say it allowed, but he thought Gabriella was great, and more, that she and Troy were great together, like they belonged. He certainly wouldn't describe her as out of his league. Troy continued.

"... and there's you and Taylor, not only insanely popular but also almost as smart as Ella. Then there's Zeke, who secretly hopes to win over the lovely Sharpay with his own hidden talents, to whit, a certain flare for large stringed instruments and a passion for cookery that goes somewhat beyond obsession." Troy knew his vocabulary was getting a little florid, but teasing Chad with it was just too much fun.

"Even Jason has a thing for Martha," he concluded, still smiling. "So, as I said: masochistic perversity."

Chad shook his head, admitting that his friend had a point. "Shame it'll never happen, isn't it?" Troy could see by his expression that his mind wasn't in the classroom right now, but rather on a certain dark-hued beauty. He smiled encouragingly, though Chad didn't see it. Troy knew that it was only the stigma that had grown up around the basketball team that kept his friends from at least taking a chance and asking the girls they liked out. Even if Taylor, Sharpay and Martha shot them down, he knew the boys would feel better for trying. How to break that ice, though, was an answer that still eluded him.

He was distracted from his thoughts by the entrance of just the girls he had been thinking of: Sharpay and Taylor first, chatting animatedly as normal, Martha following behind, and Gabriella next, with a pensive expression on her face that Troy was determined to investigate. Kelsi and Ryan brought up the rear, holding hands and talking quietly, their heads close together. Troy couldn't help but think they looked cute. He got up, and crouched by Gabriella's desk once she had retrieved her notebook.

"Morning, Ella."

Gabriella turned to face him, a smile on her face, and reached out towards him. Troy in turn reached out his hand and took her small, tanned one in his own, running his thumb over the smooth skin on the back. It was their daily greeting, this oddly intimate contact, since Troy wasn't comfortable with the more demonstrative displays of affection when in public. Gabriella would have liked nothing more than to greet him every morning with a big hug and a kiss, but could understand Troy's hesitance, and was comfortable with whatever he could give her for now.

"Are you okay?"

She sighed: he was too perceptive at times. "I'm fine, Troy. It's just... well, Sharpay hasn't exactly spoken to me since the auditions. I'm not entirely certain what I've done wrong, but I just wish she'd talk to me."

He surprised her, then, by tentatively touching her shoulder with his other hand. She had got used to his 'one hand only' rule, and this was a very welcome break from that. She realised he was trying to give her more than he had before, and she was touched by the gesture. His voice was low, but as calming as always.

"I can't pretend that I know Sharpay. Even before… everything," and she tightened her own grip on his hand in support, "we never really knew each other. But, I know she's your friend, and I know she's important to you. I can only suggest that you talk to her. And remember," and he smiled warmly, real affection in his blue eyes that made her breath hitch a little before quickening inexplicably, "I do know you. I know that you are a wonderful person, and that you're the best friend you can possibly be to the people you care for. So I know that, whatever else her reaction, Sharpay will want things to be right with you."

Gabriella could feel her eyes welling up with tears. It was amazing how easily Troy could provoke that reaction from her, and amusing, to her at least, how worried he always was by it. She had tried to explain again and again that it was a good thing, but it was deeply ingrained in Troy. It was one of the things she was going to have to work on with him.

She blinked back the tears, aware that crying in class would not be a good thing, let alone inconspicuous, and smiled at him brightly as he stood from his crouching position. She saw him wince as his back straightened, and frowned.

That was the hardest part. To know what he was going through, all the torment that he was put through at what was laughably called his home, and not to be able to stop it, to complain… even comfort for it was something she could only provide in private. He didn't notice her frown though, and gave her a last smile as he went back to his desk, patting Kelsi and Ryan's shoulders in a half-greeting, half-warning as he had heard Ms. Darbus approaching. He sank back into his seat just as she swept through the door, an expression of unusual excitement on her face.

"Now, class!" Everyone stopped talking, mostly because this didn't sound like the usual drama speech they were well used to by now. "I have an announcement to make. In one week, this class will be holding a small concert in the auditorium."

She waited remarkably patiently for the loud comments and complaints to die down, and ignored the hands being thrust at her with questions. Her gaze flickered to Gabriella, looking puzzled, and Troy, looking speculative, to an anguished looking Taylor and Kelsi and Ryan's excited, whispered conversation.

"Let me explain. This year, your final mark in English will be partly comprised of a performance mark. In order to obtain this, we will be putting on a very small production, and please calm down: the only audience will be composed of myself and the rest of the class." Some people looked comforted by this, others definitely less so. Sharpay actually looked disappointed.

"Everyone in the class will take part in at least one performance, although anyone is certainly permitted to help their classmates if they so wish. Group performances are certainly permissible, and I will even let you choose the groups. My one stipulation is that anyone involved with the coming Spring Musical must perform solo. I expect these performances to be musical, people. They don't have to be original pieces, in fact I look forward to some inventive recreations, but I want everyone to perform their best."

Gabriella's hand crept into the air, and the teacher signalled to her to speak. "Ms. Darbus, if this is for the English exam, why do they have to be musical performances?"

"Music, Ms. Montez, is as much language as English. In fact, things can be said with melody, harmony or rhythm that surpasses anything possible through mere text. Besides, this is all about _performance_. How many people would be comfortable singing a song in front of everyone?" Roughly a third of the class raised their hand. "And how many would prefer to recite a Shakespearean soliloquy?" One hand rose; Sharpay's, obviously. Chad shared a look with Jason, wondering what the hell a soliloquy was.

"As I thought. Now, to reassure you. While I am certain that we will witness some un-plumbed depths in this venture, I am perfectly well aware that some people's talents do not lie in the field of music. I realise that this will be a difficult assignment for some people, but please keep in mind that this is about performance. It is about confidence and effort. Everyone who tries hard will do well, and no one," and she shot a hard glance at the entire class, singling no one out, "is going to give anyone a hard time over this. Just try your best, and attempt to have fun. I'm going to give you a few minutes discussion time now, to work out what you're going to do." She sat behind her desk, and pulled out a pair of earplugs and a book. She looked set for an hour or two, and noise broke out everywhere.

Troy sat, speculative, for a moment, realising he'd have to do something solo. He smiled, making a quick decision, and then looked to his left… and burst out laughing. All in a row, Zeke, Chad and Jason were staring forwards, identical expressions of horror on their faces. When he heard Troy laughing, Chad turned a desperate face to his friend.

"Troy man, you've got to help us. I mean… performing? In front of people? This can in no way end well. What are we going to do?" Troy heard the entreaty in his voice and stopped laughing, thinking hard. What to do…

Down the row, Jason bent over and began to bang his head against the desk. "Somehow I don't think a five-minute drum solo is going to cut it…" he muttered.

Troy froze, and very slowly turned to face Jason.

"You play the drums?" His voice was almost a whisper. Jason shrugged, looking defensive.

"Hey, it's no big deal."

Troy closed his eyes, thinking furiously. If this would work… He opened his eyes, grinned at his friends' expressions of bewilderment, and jumped from his seat, darting over to Ryan. "Ry, you play guitar, right?"

Ryan shrugged. "Sure, I can find my way around one."

Troy smiled. "Could you do me and the guys a really big favour…"

***

Gabriella stared without seeing into her locker, knowing in her mind that she should be getting her books for the next period ready, but she could not take her eyes off the small mirror attached to the back of the grey metal unit. The angle was far from perfect, but she could just see, by leaning slightly to one side, a familiar, stylishly dressed blonde leaning against her own, pink-painted locker, apparently staring into space. The view was often obscured by the many students passing along the corridor, between the two girls, but it seemed to Gabriella that Sharpay was staring avidly into space…

"Go and talk to her, Ella."

Gabriella said nothing, but turned her face away from the mirror and nestled her head into the chest of the person who had spoken. Troy stiffened, not totally comfortable with this level of contact, at least in person, before relaxing his body and reaching around her to pull her into his embrace. She returned the gesture, pleased that he felt able to hug her in public now, even if only when they were desperately needed.

"Does it have to be now?" She spoke into his sweater, and even to her ears she sounded like a child. A little girl trying to put off an unpleasant duty till tomorrow… Troy laughed, squeezing her waist a little as he did so.

"No, it doesn't have to be now. But it should be, and now would be the best time."

She leaned her head back to look him in the eye, careful not to break the comforting circle of his arms. "Why would now be best?"

Troy smiled, and held up a fist, extending his thumb. "One: you miss her a lot, Ella, and it's fairly easy to realise that the sooner you speak to her the sooner you'll feel better. I would have thought you'd get that one yourself, being the insanely logical genius-girl." He gave her another little squeeze with one arm, accenting the teasing. She was impressed despite herself: it was nice that he was able to make fun of her, even if only a little. It was such a normal, couple-y thing to do. He extended his index finger on his raised fist. "Two: we know it must be something to do with the auditions. That's when it started. I think it would be very good idea to talk to her before the call backs. It would make everyone's life so much easier."

She chuckled, admitting the point, and waited to see if there was another point. She wasn't disappointed.

"Three," he raised the next finger, "I think that, right at this moment, she's the most open I've seen her since that day. She's not completely closed off. I think this is the best chance you have. Look," and he reluctantly broke the embrace to glance at his watch, "I need to get to class. It doesn't have to be now, but now would be good. I'll see you later." And to her great surprise he leaned close, gave her a peck on the corner of her mouth, smiled softly, and turned in the direction of the Science labs. Gabriella shook her head, wondering how one damaged guy could manage to be quite so wonderful. She was well aware that she was falling for Troy and falling hard. She had had crushed before, and even a boyfriend once or twice, and she had never felt for them what she felt for Troy Bolton now. It was strange and even a little frightening to her, but she couldn't give it up, and didn't want to. It was like a drug to her, being around him, and part of her intoxication was the knowledge that she affected him in the same way. Astounding…"

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she walked over to her extrovert friend, feeling nervous but determined. She could still feel Troy's kiss tingling on the corner of her mouth, and the sensation inspired a courage in her she didn't know she had. She stopped a little distance from Sharpay, who was still gazing into the middle distance, and took a deep breath.

"Sharpay, I need to tell you that I'm pregnant."

The squeal started low, rose quickly and soon seemed to break the sound barrier; it certainly caused the passing students to crash into the lockers and wrap their arms around their heads in a desperate attempt to block out the piercing tone. Gabriella was expecting it and braced herself, able to stand without moving under the sonic barrage, but even she winced. When the noise finally died, Sharpay was staring at her with wide eyes and an even wider mouth.

"But you… you… he… no… but… Troy… you… pregnant?"

Gabriella chuckled, unable to keep it in. Her friend's reaction was so predictably… Sharpay. "No, actually, but at least you're talking to me again."

Suddenly Sharpay's expression turned sheepish, almost shy. "I'm sorry, Gabriella, I really am. I've been trying to speak to you for days, and just couldn't get the words out, or find the right time…"

Relief broke over Gabriella like a wave. Sharpay wasn't that angry with her, if she was apologising for the awkwardness they'd been living in for the last couple of weeks. "It's fine, Shar. Come on, walk with me to Trig, and we can talk about it." Gabriella normally paid attention in every class, even Trig, but she was wise enough to know that, right now, re-establishing her friendship was more important that cosines. They walked arm in arm towards the classroom, speaking in low voices all the way.

"Shar, I need to know what's wrong. I feel like I've offended you in some way, and I just want everything to be right again."

Sharpay looked at the other girl with an odd expression, and then sighed. "It's nothing you've done, Gabriella, not really. It's just... at the audition, you and Troy came at me from nowhere, and then you were so good... you do know you've pretty much got the part, right?"

The Brunette blushed and looked at her feet. "It's hardly a foregone conclusion. You and Ry have so much experience."

Sharpay smiled an odd, slightly twisted smile. "We do, but you and Troy have something we'll never have. It's something I know Darbus has been looking for for years, and has only found it with you two. You have... chemistry, I guess. A connection. Me and Ry are brother and sister, and it shows. You two..." Her eyes grew distant, and her voice became softer, taking on a wistful note.

"You two could actually be in love."

Gabriella's blush deepened. _Love?_ She was saved from having to answer when Sharpay, sensing her unease, pressed on.

"I know I was always encouraging you to audition, but I don't think I honestly believed you would. So first I was jealous, and then I was angry, and then I was sad for feeling jealous and angry, and then angry again for the same reasons... it just got so confusing."

"Well, I'm glad we were able to talk about this. I missed you, you know."

She smiled. "Me too. On the other hand," and her voice became a little sharper as they swung into the classroom, "try an opening that doesn't result in me having a stroke."

"Yes, Sharpay," Gabriella replied meekly, though still unable to completely hide the laughter from her voice.

* * *

AN: Hope you like it hopefully there'll be more of other stuff soon.


End file.
